As a Canadian, one of the things I've grown to miss about my former country is how they deal with politics. Even when the Prime Minister is being elected, the whole process resembles a rural school board election here in the states. I suppose it has a lot to do with television. As of this writing, Canada still does not have the seven thousand or so cable news networks Americans presently have at their disposal. There is very little for the average Canadian to turn to, when they want to see people of conflicting political ideas screaming at each other at any hour of the day. So, the influence isn't there, like it is here. And I think that accounts for the severity American's attach to their political views. Everyone, from the frigid, misshapen pundits on television, to the guy with four missing teeth and a decade of stacking ninety-nine cent soup cans at Wal-Mart, has an opinion, however poorly informed it might be, on the big names running their country.
Of course, this can be a good thing, even if the voter-turnout for a presidential election could be just little bit higher.
Okay, okay. I may have been too kind there. It could be a hell of a lot higher.
But still, it's good that people, at the very least, talk about what's going on. It's good that they bitch, wonder, bemoan, trust, refuse to trust, blindly accept, question with a rant in their Internet diary, amongst other wholesome activities. Americans are not above any of these things. And with close to seven years in this country, it's still not something I'm completely used to.
Which isn't to say that Canada's got it right, by playing their politics on a lower frequency. It's simply a matter of a major difference between two countries. Like the way Japanese people would never think to fight and shout at a death metal concert.
To make a long story slightly shorter, in Canada, you can pick up a newspaper, or turn to CBC, and find out what's going on. If you do however, that's your choice. You're seeking these things out. In America, you can still choose to avoid politics. Only, if you do, then it's probably safe to say that you're not watching any television, you're not listening to the radio, you're not going on the Internet, and you're definitely not leaving the house.
I realize that if I had remained in Canada, I probably wouldn't be able to offer much in the way of a political opinion. Well, maybe, maybe not. I'm one of those geeks with too much free time on their hands, so it's entirely possible that I would still have something to say.
But that hardly seems to matter. I'm not in Canada. I'm in the United States. And as I said before, seven years has gone by in this part of the world, and in that time, I've wound up with an idea of where I stand, whether I had intended to come up with one or not.
I actually can't remember if I set out to have an opinion.
Right now, we're on the verge of a U.S. presidential election. My second, but the first one I can actually participate in. And I'm up for it. Definitely. I'm ready to give it my best shot and vote for the candidate I believe to be the best one to lead this country for the next four years.
I just don't feel like talking about it.
I know the reason for this too. And I'm more than willing to share it.
You just have to promise not to laugh or shake your head in mild disgust.
Promise?
Good.
Here it is.
I can't think of anything clever to say about it.
That's stupid. I know. And it's not for a lack of an actual opinion. I have that. It's just that it happens to sound an awful lot like the belief's of a lot of other people I know. People who are clearly missing large portions of the functional part of their brain. This bothers me. And you can blame it on that age-old ego, but I feel as though there's an obligation, based completely in my own head, to have something humorous to say. What's more, something that hasn't already been pasted five billion times in crappy political cartoon after crappy political cartoon.
I haven't come up with anything yet.
And with nearly eight hundred words down, you might be wondering what that opinion actually is.
I suppose there's nothing wrong with sharing that as well, since I don't have to actually look at you. Be warned though, my thoughts will probably resemble the one given to you by the alcoholic Mensa parody who bags your groceries.
Now that that's out of the way, are we ready for my big opinion?
For the sake of clarity, only the two major parties will factor into this.
So, so sorry, Ralph. I still love you. I really do.
Anyway, I think that like every presidential election before this one, and especially like the last one, this is going to come down to the lesser of two evils.
And with that in mind, I'm planning to vote for John Kerry.
That famous website said it best. You probably know the one. "John Kerry is a douchebag, but I'm voting for him anyway."
In case you actually didn't know what I was talking about, and want to see what it is for yourself, that really is JohnKerryIsADoucheBagButImVotingForHimAnyway.com..
The theory has been done to death, but I use it anyway. I believe that no matter who you vote for, you're pretty much going to be dealing with a politician. And no matter which group they might affiliate themselves with, there's still a fairly general group of traits that we've come to expect in all of them. John Kerry is certainly not exempt from this, but again, it comes down to the one I dislike the least and in my opinion, John wins this contest with ease.
And if I'm going along with this none-too-unique doctrine, and I'm planning voting for John Kerry, then it should be obvious enough that I don't care too terribly for George. Call me an oddity, but I've always had a thing for preserving our natural resources. As a survivor of an American public school, happen to believe that any education program which puts any kind of weight of standardized testing needs to be swiftly beaten with a crowbar.
I also have this quirk of my nature, in which I am tremendously afraid of any president whose religious beliefs clearly and viciously dictate his policies. Abortion is a good example of this. Never mind that if our current president has his way, then the practice will be illegal on all fronts, and from that will spring an underground industry that will make bootlegging in the 1920s look like a trailer park garage sale, if the president's prayer breakfast runs three hours longer than usual, and there's not even a coffee cake to be found, then I'm likely to lock my door and cancel my license as one of those people just trying to make their way in the world.
I also believe that something is seriously wrong with the way artists are treated in this country. Make someone cut Julia Robert's salary for one movie in half, and you'd probably have enough to give to most of the talented people in this country, who stop creating because it doesn't pay the bills. Of course, I honestly don't think John Kerry will change much in this respect, but I'm more than willing to give him the opportunity.
The same can be said for the other items mentioned. The chances of Kerry dealing with these issues in a manner completely satisfying to me are slim. But again, I'm more interested in giving him the chance, as I happen to believe that George Bush isn't really working out.
Of course, I can go on with these opinions of mine. I won't, though I will say that it's important to keep in mind that everything I've said up to this point is just that. An opinion. You probably disagree with me. That's great. Please do. If you're talking to me while we're waiting for Ozzfest tickets, feel free to cut me off in mid sentence and tell me why I'm wrong. I'll probably disagree with you. That works fine as well.
And it's not just because I'm desperate for a cool perspective.
I want people to disagree enough, that they want to prove me wrong by voting in November.
To be honest, that strikes me as carrying a great deal of importance over my own ridiculous thought process.
Gabriel Ricard writes short fiction, poetry, and plays. Born in Canmore, Alberta, Canada, he lives with his family in Waverly, Virginia.